Misconceptions cleared
by Biene
Summary: After 9x18, Sam and Dean have a much needed talk about Sam's and Gadreel's words to Dean finally making them admit how they feel about each other. WINCEST


A/N: Hey guys, a big hello to you all out there! My first try at a Supernatural fanfic, l'm quite nervous…

I breathe deeply, in - out - in - out. Gadreel's words still echo in my ears, piercing my skin like thousands of little knives.

„I have been in your brother's body, Dean. He would not trade his life for yours."

You'd think it wouldn't hurt as much as when Sam himself has said it to my face, but you'd be wrong. It took all my strength to keep calm then. I've accepted the fact Sam is never going to love me like I love him. Yes, I do love him and not just brotherly, are you surprised? Have I been able to hide my feelings well enough then?

Anyway, my feelings hardly matter here, I won't act on them, Sam would run if he ever found out and I just can't let that happen. I can't let us break apart, we are all we have left now. And even though I hate to admit it, without him I am only half the person that I am with him.

So I'll always settle for this, driving through the country with him in the passenger's seat, the music blaring with Baby's roar mixed in. Right now it is what I need, after the nasty surprise that Metatron isn't fazed by Holy Oil or the sigil protecting our trunk. I am pissed about having to give up Gadreel, losing that son of a bitch might come back to bite us in the ass. Not to mention how much he's hurt Sammy… My hands tighten on the steering wheel and I almost clench my teeth. For that alone I'd love to kill him. To calm myself I focus my attention on the road and our surroundings. It's quite nice out there, a green, hilly landscape with fields lit brightly by the stars.

Sam must have picked up something, he looks at me with a concerned look on his face.

„Pull over" He says quietly, in that tone I'm not capable to refuse.

Once we're parked at the side of the road I turn to him.

„What!?" I snap, desperately trying to keep some distance between us. My grip on my emotions is pretty weak at the moment and I fear I'll let something slip, something that will tell him how I really feel about him.

Sam's not having it though, sees right through what I'm attempting to do. To crush any barrier between us he puts a hand on my wrist, an unvoiced demand to talk to him. I growl to warn him off, but he doesn't let go, instead tightens his grip, his large hand almost completely enveloping my wrist. He's not going to let me get out of this that easily. I take a deep, impatient breath, using those seconds to consider my next words. They will have to be enough to placate Sam without revealing too much…

„I'm just wrapping my head around losing Gadreel and discovering that that son of a bitch Metatron is immune to all our weapons, okay? That's enough to rattle anyone!"

Sounds convincing, doesn't it? Well, Sam's not fooled by it, he seems to sense that's not all of it.

„It sure is", he agrees, then moves in for the kill.

„But there's more, isn't there? Something Gadreel said?"

He has to feel my pulse quickening under his fingers, telling him he struck a nerve. There's no point holding back anymore, once he's scented something, he's like a dog with a bone to pick. He will keep digging until he finds out what he wants to know.

„Fine. He taunted me about how you'd never give your live for mine, okay? And it hurt like hell, again. Satisfied?"

I spit the words out in a rush, eager to be done with it now that I have no choice but to voice them. He flinches visibly and the dark part of me feels thrilled to see that, while the rest of me cringes right along with Sam.

His grip on my wrist loosens, then his hand moves up my arm gently. It travels up my lower arm, my upper arm, along my neck and cups my cheek, softly caressing it. There's silence for a moment and I involuntary lean into his hand, enjoying his touch way too much.

„Oh, Dean… You got that all wrong. You look at it like being alive was the reward, the easy part, when it's not. It's the hard part. I've been there when you were in hell, remember? Let me tell you, it's miserable, there's so much pain and guilt about being the one to survive. I couldn't go on without you, I was so broken I never thought I'd become whole again. You took such a big piece of me with you, it didn't seem possible. Amelia managed to patch me up some, but never completely. A part of me was always missing. And Bobby told me how you were when I was dead for a week… So when I say I would not trade my life for yours, it's because I don't want you to ever feel that much grief again. Not because you're not important enough to me, okay?"

The tone of his voice is so convincing, I just have to believe him.

„Okay."

That's all I'm capable of saying and it comes out rough and with far too much vulnerability. Sam sighs, then reaches out for me pulling me tightly against him. His scent floods me and I instantly relax into him burying my head in the crook of his neck. He simply holds me and strokes my hair as I ride out the stormy sea of my emotions, shivering and almost sobbing, providing me with a lifeline preventing me from completely drowning. He whispers soothing words in my ear I don't quite understand, but the sound of his voice is enough to calm me. When I surface, he's still there, sturdy as a rock, allowing me to cling to him. Somehow that's when I know he won't leave me, that he's really going to be there no matter what. As embarrassed as I am by this outburst, I'm grateful Sam's here for me to lean on. As much as I'd like to deny it, sometimes even the great Dean Winchester needs support.

My eyes glisten with unshed tears when I lift my head to meet my brother's gaze. I see compassion, worry and simple acceptance in those green orbs. Without thinking I lean forward giving in to the impulse to brush my lips against his, just to get a taste of him. As soon as I'm aware of what I'm doing I panic, trying to pull back, readying myself for the disgust on Sam's face. But he doesn't let me, just shifts his hand to my neck to prevent me from moving. He gently starts nibbling on my lower lip, sending shivers down my spine. I moan, opening my mouth slightly and he takes it as an invitation to sneak his tongue in. He keeps it light, almost tantalisingly so, less a duel of our tongues, rather a slow, sensuous dance. God, where has he learned to kiss like that?!

It feels so amazing, blows every one of my phantasies to dust. When we finally break apart for air, we're both panting. Despite that Sam manages to flash me a seductive smile.

„Just let me show you how important you are to me…"

The hardness he's rubbing against my groin tells me exactly what he means by that. Am I dreaming? If yes, I don't ever want to wake up… The happiness welling up inside me is so overwhelming, I can't speak, so I only nod and return a smile of my own. He gives me another soft, unhurried kiss, then we exit Baby wordlessly. He slips an arm around my waist as he leads me to the trunk where he takes out a blanket and lube from his duffle. Still silent we head for the next hollow to get at least some privacy where Sam spreads the blanket with a swift move. He turns back to me, sneaking his hands around my waist. For a while we just embrace, a frozen moment in time. Even though I'm already hard - and he must be too - the desire to get off somehow takes the backseat to the need to just stay like this, soak up all the warmth and love and welcome Sam is radiating like a beacon. I bask in this sensation of total acceptance, something I've never felt before. No wonder, no one knows the truth about me like Sam does… The good, the bad and everything in between. I melt in his arms, never doubting I'm absolutely safe there. After a while he lowers me onto the blanket smoothly, pushing me on my back, positioning himself directly above me. He keeps his weight on his elbows, barely touching me, making me I arch up against him. My hands stroke his hair, pulling his head closer to me so I can kiss him again. I take my time to revel in his taste, incomparable to anything else. Somehow it could only be described as pure Sam…

My fingers reach for the buttons of the flannel shirt he's wearing over a plain white T-Shirt, but before I can open even the first one, he swats my hand away playfully to undo them himself. He shrugs it off, then helps me out of the light jacket I'm wearing.

"This is all about you, Dean, just enjoy…"

I moan his name helplessly as he nibbles at my neck and his hands slip beneath my T-Shirt finally touching my bare skin. Then when the thin cotton barrier becomes insufferable he frees us from our T-Shirts. He's so gently with me, it's almost unbearable, like I'm something precious and easily breakable. Doesn't Sam know I'm already broken? And yet, with him I don't feel like that, with him I feel whole, as if he's picked up the pieces and put them back together.

I ache to explore his body, but as soon as I try to, he pins my arms over my head with one of his hands. I growl and struggle a little bit, even then knowing it's useless. He's taken control and won't hand it over unless he wants to. With anybody else that would have frightened me, not with him though, my trust in him is so complete.

"Not yet, my dear…" Sam whispers, his breath tickling my ear.

Desperate I thrust up against him, I need more of him, more of him now! With a small laugh he gives in to my demand, cupping the bulge in my jeans lightly. I almost backbend trying to get as much friction as possible.

My eyes plead with him to free us from the rest of our clothes and he obeys. He needs both hands for the buttons on my fly, so he has to let go of my arms. At last I get to touch him… His wide-blown pupils tell me he too won't be able to last that much longer. His body is familiar to me due to the countless times I have had to tend to his wounds and yet this time is completely different. There's no worry to assess how serious a wound is or how bad the pain from it might be, instead I can simply enjoy how his skin feels beneath my hands and how sensitive he is to my touch.

I explore every inch of him I can reach, trace all of his scars, his arms, his back, his chest, his stomach, noting his quivering when I gently caress him there.

Once we're naked, Sam covers me with his body like he's done before, giving me a deep, thorough kiss. My fingers reach his butt, kneading the soft flesh there. This time it's him moaning when I thrust up to find some of the delicious friction I'm longing for. And yet he wriggles out of my grip, sitting up next to me. He opens the bottle of lube and puts some on his fingers. One of his hand wraps around my throbbing dick and I almost climax right then. The other one teases my entrance before Sam slips one finger inside. Once I'm lose enough a second and then a third follows, stretching me carefully to prepare me for him. I writhe under his expert touch and soon he has me begging him to just take me now. He withdraws, making me whimper at the loss of contact, but he only lubes his big cock generously before he draws my legs up on his shoulders to give him better access. He pushes in slowly giving me ample time to adjust to him. Does he know I've never bottomed before? That I wouldn't for anybody but him? Or is it just Sam being Sam to be so considerate?

Once he's completely inside me he pauses for another kiss, this one slow and lingering. We still kiss when he starts rolling his hips, timing his thrusts to the movements of his tongue. Even lost in passion like that - lost in Sam actually - I know he's holding back, intent on making this an unforgettable night for me. And that shatters me, making me come hard, almost violently. I cling to him as he follows an instant later, moaning my name.

After he's pulled out of me he rolls around, taking me with him so he's on his back now with me next to him resting my head on his chest, his hands possessively around my waist. I listen to his rapid heartbeat slowly getting back to its usual pace, satisfied to just lie here with Sam next to me. I'm still reeling from the fact that we just made love and try to deal with all the feelings swirling inside of me.

For the first time I see the appeal of a chickflick moment. The intense happiness is almost making me burst, especially when Sam lowers his head to kiss my forehead and whispers:

"I love you, Dean. Just believe it…"

And how can I not, after the way he's just treated me?

"I do… And I love you too, Sammy."

As a response he draws me even closer sighing contently.

After a while Sam looks at me, meeting my eyes.

 _Head back to Baby and make for the next motel?_ is the question I can read in his.

With a nod I agree and get up to look for me clothes. Sam uses a part of the blanket to clean his stomach from my come before he folds it. Once dressed again, we walk back to Baby shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip.

The next hotel is only a few miles down the road and the clerk greets us friendly despite how late it already is.

"King or Queen?"

"King" We say in unison, smiling at each other.

— The End —

A/N: Well, how did you like it? Drop me a review to let me know, please!


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